


Guide Me

by bloodandcream



Series: Ship all the Ships [46]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-20
Updated: 2015-06-20
Packaged: 2018-04-05 08:00:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4172091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandcream/pseuds/bloodandcream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary knew that she shouldn’t want this. She knew that the sweet boy that gave her his promise ring, John, and asked her to prom, should be the only boy for her. But Azazel, who asked her to babysit his baby girl Meg, well, he wasn’t a boy. He was a man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guide Me

She tried to stifle her screams, tried to stifle the hurt, but every blow that Azazel lay against her blossomed with pain. Mary squirmed and pressed her face to the couch cushions and tried so hard not to be too loud. He had made it perfectly clear that she shouldn’t wake up the kids. 

“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?”

Mary shifted, spreading her legs a little farther, and it hurt but if she could tempt Azazel to getting more worked up, could make it end quicker, maybe that would be better for her. But, she should know that it never was. No matter how many times he had her over his lap, it was never enough.

For him. Or for her. 

Mary knew that she shouldn’t want this. She knew that the sweet boy that gave her his promise ring, John, and asked her to prom, should be the only boy for her. But Azazel, who asked her to babysit his baby girl Meg, well, he wasn’t a boy. He was a man. 

And he knew all those secret bad places on Mary that she knew she wasn’t supposed to touch. That she knew were supposed to be shameful. Only. He liked them. He encouraged her. He told her she was bad but then he made her feel so good and Mary wasn’t certain what she was supposed to believe, but she knew that his touch could only mean good things. 

It hurt. Of course it did, when he spanked her raw and bare. When he hit his broad calloused hands against her smooth young flesh until it raised up red and started to bruise. It hurt. But he kissed it better. With whisker rough cheeks that scraped her thighs, he kissed it better. 

Laying his tongue against the secret bad places between her legs that made her whimper and shiver and beg, Azazel knew how to pull the words from her mouth that he wanted. The ‘please’, and the ‘I need you’ and the ‘harder ohgodharder’. 

Mary knew that she shouldn’t want this. Azazel was older than her by more than twenty years. He had gray hair at his temples and his skin wrinkled when he smiled wide, in the corner of his pale eyes. His daughter, Meg, went to school with Mary. She was a sweet girl, not always there with a vacant emptiness to her eyes, but although her temperament was unpredictable she was a sweet girl. 

Mary wondered sometimes, why a sweet girl like that frowned so often. 

Still, when Azazel asked, she would babysit the girl who was barely two years younger than her and should be fine to be left alone. Mary would still babysit, because it was her job. Because she said she would.

And when Azazel came back home - from wherever he went - and found any slight wrong to punish Mary with, well, she would still bend over for him. Because his rough calloused hands on her young skin ignited things within her that Mary had never understood. It was too hot, too tense, too much. And she knew, basically, what it was that she wanted but she didn’t know how.

So she trusted him. Because he must know, if he was doing things like this. 

 Draped across his lap, she trusted him, moaning lowly at the heat he lit under her skin and spreading her thighs wider to feel the comfort only he could bring. 

John, he was her sweetheart, her promise for a normal life like what everyone told her she should want. But Azazel. He was a deal. A give-take. That if she provided what was asked, she would get what she needed. 

So she took what he gave her. His broad hand cracking lines of heat against her skin that burrowed down and made her pussy wet. She took it, and moaned, and whimpered, and wondered what this strange transformation in her body was. But she trusted. That he would guide her.

As he slid his cock deep in to her body, she trusted still, that he would guide her.


End file.
